


Forgive and forget.

by SpeghettiMonster



Category: World of Warcraft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-09
Updated: 2014-05-09
Packaged: 2018-01-24 03:16:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1589687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpeghettiMonster/pseuds/SpeghettiMonster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a short story about my night elf Rogue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forgive and forget.

**Author's Note:**

> Hayo, this is my first World of Warcraft FanFiction, after reading a few I decided there werent many that really... were what I was looking for, so here is kind of... what I wanted to see.

Call to Arms, huh? Battlegrounds were an old tradition that both factions did. Since I was a mere elf we were being taught in one way or another, what to do when we saw a Horde. Most of the people in my class ran. But not me. I faced them. Normally people ran out of the temple screaming and crying for their parents when they let out the Orc, but I just stood there. My curiousity peeked by the set jaw, I realised then that I was braver then the rest. I didn't go and run from whatever hunted me. No, I stood there and faced the Orc. Although, I was scolded for not running and seeking a place in the forest where I had an advantage. When I turned two-hundred my parents told me that I needed to fight, because my Bravery was not to be wasted. In my family we got presents every twenty years, not every like most families. Wrapped in silk were two long blades, pointed edges with Kaldorei runes scripted on the fine, sharp blade. I walked with these blades everywhere, I was practicing when I could. I wanted to be the best, I had to be.

Silently people judged me, saying that a female cannot be a warrior, they had to be a Priest, or caster. But what they didn't know, was instead of a Warrior, I was a Rogue. Using the shadows as my source of strength, using people's weaknesses as my strength. My brother called me a coward, but he left me when my blades went through his foot. Stupid mage, tempering me. 

On my three-hundredth birthday I was legally allowed to fight in the Battlegrounds, where mages would stand in Darnassus and open portals, my first was a slick looking arena in Ashenvale. (Warsong Gultch). Perfect, I thought to myself, here I could climb trees, shooting them with arrows, or throwing my small and light knives. But that year the battles were called off due to the Horde not being able to participate. So I had to wait another fourty years. 

-Fourty years later-

I was laying by one of the lakes in Teldressil, after killing multipul bog monsters that tried to sneak up on me, although it was easy it took my breath away. A Kaldorei man held his hand out to me, I still remember exactly what he said to me, because I was beyond proud.

"Hey there, I saw what you did and i'm amazed. Normally people take on two or three, but you just killed more then five. Nicely done."

I remember the soft skin that covered his hands when he helped me up, and the blood that rose in my cheeks. I feel the same sensation even now, looking back at it. He told me that he was a Druid, well... more of showed me. I was fighting a random saber when he shed his skin and leaped, killing the beast. I couldn't hide the shock that crossed me, and I knew that he saw from the laughing. Years ago now, we were in a dark cave. I went ahead because I figured it'd be okay. My black trousers were shredded, leaving me in only a Loincloth looking thing. My shirt was ripped and only covered my chest area and back. The look on his face when he saw me was laughable. 

"S- sha? Is that you?!"

My laugh echoed through the cave. I saw that he held his breath, his normal blue skin darkened when he held his breath. We stood there for several minutes, analysing eachother. I saw his eyes crawl over each visible part of skin, I wanted to cover up and run. But that would be giving into my fear, so I stood still. The stutter was still upon him when he talked.

"Did you w- want me to heal you?"

What? Only my clothes were ripped? I felt a small trickle down my cheek and I reached up and whiped my face. These lines were through both of my eyes, but not my eyeballs. After a few pondering moments I shake my head, no.

"I think they'll make good battle scars, don't you think?"

A nod of his head and we headed back out of the cave, to hell with the chest.

"By the way, I think you look good, Sha."

I knew I blushed, that stupid blush. The same blush I felt when our first child looked me in the eye and told me that he wanted to be just as strong as his Mother.


End file.
